The Letter
by Monali.inWords
Summary: As Lisbon takes up the job offer in New York, Jane collides with all the feelings he had repressed within himself. In the final moment of farewell what course will their story take? Read this three-chapter tale and dive into the crudest of human emotions and a love so abysmal that it broke into their hearts and healed them forever. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Letting go

Hey! This is my first attempt in this forum. Hope you enjoy reading. Please leave reviews. Thank you!

The lyrics are from the first paragraph of the song 'Just Breathe" by Pearl Jam.

 **Yes, I understand that every life must end, aw-huh,  
As we sit alone, I know someday we must go, aw-huh,  
Oh I'm a lucky man, to count on both hands the ones I love,**

 **Some folks just have one,  
Yeah, others, they got none, huh-uh**

 **Stay with me,  
Let's just breathe.**

 _"Jane, I have got it. I have got the post of Deputy Commissioner in New York. I am moving next week."_

Teresa's words bombarded every corner of Patrick's mind. He shifted uneasily in his bed, the small of the Silver Bucket closing in on him. Sighing heavily, he grabbed his coat and walked out into the wintry night.

He had known something was up for two weeks now. And it was six days ago she had told him.

"Nice shots, boss!" Grace Van Pelt said, shooting her former in-charge a look of apprehension.

"I am not your boss anymore, Grace," she replied, carelessly looking at the paper target. All twenty punctures were in the head. Jane's head, Teresa indignantly thought. Then a pang of bitter sadness hit her. She will be going away tomorrow; leaving the only man she ever fell in love with.

When the offer had come Lisbon had right away chose to turn it down. Leaving California and settling in the small town of DC was hard enough. The CBI had been shut down. All her colleagues and friends had scattered across the country. Her life as a sheriff had been monotonous and forlorn. But she could go through her day; knowing that Jane was out there somewhere; that maybe if circumstances were different they would be together. At her tiny apartment in the silence of the night, she would read each of his letters over and over, trying to imagine his slight smile, an affectionate glint in his grey blue eyes as he put the pen to paper.

When Jane came back he had opened floodgates of emotions that she was bottling up for so long. It was all she could do to not run into him and admit to her feelings. She finally thought he would express all that he left unfinished during his chase for Red John. Thus, she waited; content to be reunited with her best friend and the former CBI team.

Their schedule fell into place just as before. Jane continued doing whatever it needed to get on her nerves and in everybody's way. Lisbon at last settled down and regained her stability among the newness of Texas, quickly striking friendships with her new boss, Abbott, and team mate, Fischer.

As months passed, however, Teresa started to doubt Jane's feelings. He genuinely cared for her; made her eat on time, brought her her morning tea, dropped her home when work ran late into the night. But not once had Teresa spied the severity of emotions in his features as she had seen all those years back; she had not got the glimpse of the man who had embraced her mightily with wet, frightened eyes. Maybe two years had made him fall out of love with her. Or maybe, Teresa thought with a lump in her throat, it was all her delusion. He did not love her at any point in time.

 _Despite the incertitude, she told Abbott and Cho about her decision to not accept the job in New York. Abbott allowed Cho to leave before sitting across her for a full one minute then saying,_

 _"This opportunity won't stick around forever, Teresa. It's about time you let Jane handle his own demons."_

 _She had spent many sleepless hours mulling over Dennis's words. Over the course of that time, she had been observing Patrick more closely. But nothing betrayed the man's actions that could, even for a fraction of second, suggest he thought of her more than a friend. The night before talking to her boss again, she had prayed; prayed to God that she had selected the right path._

 _Then she had accepted the offer. Abbott had just smiled sadly._

 _The interview was a long process and she resolved she wouldn't tell Jane until her shift to the new city was affirmed._

Patrick Jane was a man who saw the most barbarous of acts and experienced the harshest of emotional turmoil. But as he walked the dark roads under the somber and starless night, he couldn't remember the last time he had this abysmal a heartache soaring within every inch of his soul.

He had always been proud to remain in control of himself when it came to relationships. But tonight, as his last resolves started cracking, he walked into the church, the same church where Teresa had once prayed for him.

He loved Teresa. He was terrified of losing her. But he strongly believed she deserved much more than a broken, unfixable man that he had become over the years of burning in revenge and hatred. However, in the house of God, in the soft golden light off the candles, as he closed his eyes and clasped his cold palms together, an eerie calm descended on him and he realized that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't be selfless enough to let go of the woman whom he was profoundly in love with for almost seven years.

He couldn't let her go without hearing him out. He knew there will be no damage tonight that hasn't already been done. For one last time, he looked at the massive crucifix before him and ran out.

As he shuffled forward on the empty streets, numb to the cold wind, he dimly remembered his last encounter with Teresa Lisbon.

 _As usual, Patrick lay flat on his couch. It was fifteen minutes to midnight. Ten feet away, Lisbon was finishing the last of paperwork. A big case was closed after three days of constant hustle. Lisbon had volunteered to do the filing after the case closed pizza. Patrick thoughts wandered and he furrowed. This past week Lisbon had been watching him like a hawk. He couldn't risk glancing at her while she worked, just to admire her slight frown and an irritated mutter as she typed away. Something was definitely up. Lisbon, Cho and Abbott were huddled together again at lunchtime. And observing the tension in Lisbon's posture and how she allowed the team to leave before them, Patrick sensed he was about to be let into the loop._

 _Not liking the secrecy, he called to her. She closed her laptop with a snap and as she headed to him, Jane could see worry etching her exhausted features as she came and asked him to scoot over._

 _She sat beside him, visibly agitated._

 _"_ _Hey, whatever you have to say, we can talk about it tomorrow. You need sleep," Jane said, startling even himself with the gentleness in his voice. Lisbon shook her head and looked at him and Patrick was caught off guard by the misery in her eyes. He suddenly felt his internal warmth vacating. What had she been hiding?_

 _She inhaled deeply and began, "You remember the Volker case we sealed?" At Jane's confused nod she continued, "Well, it had caused much of a stir and Abbott personally credited me for his arrest. And three weeks back I received an offer from Warren Scott, the Commissioner of NYPD. They wanted me. Jane, I have got it. I have got the post of Deputy Commissioner in New York. I am moving next week."_

 _Lisbon realized Jane was looking beyond her, at some distant nonexistent object. With incredible suddenness, his face crumbled and Teresa was once more looking at the anguished man filled with self loathing and distrust._

 _As he gripped the couch's side to steady himself, he knocked off his turquoise teacup; it fell, smashing at his feet._

 _He jolted, almost horrified, to look at the broken pieces. And then the moment had passed. The cool demeanor had returned to him and he slowly turned a blank gaze at a bewildered Teresa and picked up the fragments of porcelain on the floor. Then he walked over to the break room and deposited his broken cup in the bin and turned to face her._

 _He walked over, putting a calculated distance between them and put a subtle hand on her shoulder and said, "Congratulations, Teresa. I am proud of you."_

 _He hesitantly leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek and muttered a goodbye before striding away; never for once looking back._

 _Next day, Abbott asked Lisbon into his office and, as gently as he could, explained that Jane had called him at six in the morning to inform him that he was going away on a leave._

 _"How long a leave?" Teresa had asked, trepidation rising up her chest, already knowing the answer_

 _"More than a week," confirmed her boss, mouth setting in a grim line._

"Hey, you'll always be my boss," Grace said, pulling her out of her reverie. Teresa managed a smile, frustrated that coming to the shooting range did not do a tad good at letting her angst out.

The sinking feeling in her stomach returned; probably she will never see him again.

Grace had known Teresa Lisbon for eight years and they have seen the worst of times and the best of moments together. But never had she seen her so unsettled, pained and scared. Grace always believed her good friend, Jane, was crazy about Lisbon. The situation with them was truly baffling because Grace and Wayne could bet all their money that the work partners were in love. Teresa looked disastrous. She had not bothered to put on any makeup; the bags under her eyes stood distinctively against her pale skin, her forehead lined with tiredness. She had lost weight drastically and the usual air of authority always about her was almost nonexistent.

As Lisbon deposited the goggles and headphones and headed for the door, Grace quickly suggested she drove her home. But Lisbon just hugged her and murmured, "Goodbye, Grace. You have been a very good friend. Say goodbye to that husband of yours for me."

Both women smiled; over the years they have grown close.

Then they parted.


	2. The Last Prayer

A/N: Hi again! Thank you for the lovely reviews. I received a mail notifying that musical lyrics are not can't I insert them if I credit them clearly?

The lyrics are of the first paragraph of the song 'Just Breath' by Pearl Jam.

 **Practiced all my sins,  
Never gonna let me win, aw-huh,  
Under everything, just another human being, aw-huh,  
Yeah, I don't wanna hurt, there's so much in this world  
To make me bleed.**

 **Stay with me,  
You're all I see.**

 **Did I say that I need you?  
Did I say that I want you?  
Oh, if I didn't I'm a fool you see,  
No one knows this more than me.  
As I come clean.**

The chill of the night invaded Jane's clothes as he sat still on Teresa's doorstep.

It's been a little over half an hour. Finally his weary vision caught movements. Her small figure wrapped in a coat walked slowly, shoulders sagging. Patrick breathed in sharply, his feet losing all strength to stand. All the pain, the desperate desires enveloped him in a blinding paroxysm.

Lisbon pushed into her front yard. But she stopped dead in her tracks, spotting the lone silhouette at of her door, gazing at her with an unfathomable expression. Her knees buckled underneath her and she held on to the half height wooden entrance, vision blurring slightly.

A second later Patrick was by her side and even in her weak state and with all that had happened, she felt drawn to the handsome man looming over her. She tried pushing him away but he effortlessly picked her up and walked up to her house. He paused and fumbled to get out the keys from her bag. As he was unlocking the door a light turned on somewhere across them, lighting up Lisbon's face. Unnerved by her devastating appearance he averted his gaze from Lisbon's closed expression.

Ten minutes later she sat in her bedroom, sipping the coffee Jane had just made her. He put a tray of sandwiches on the bedside table and sat across her at the end of the bed. He watched in silence as she ate, never looking up at him. After she was done he took the dish and mug away; washing them and putting them away.

She had changed into a jersey and pajamas and sat beside the full height window in her bedroom. A silver moon peeked from behind the clouds, throwing a ghostly glow to her frail structure. Patrick came in and she faintly noted his disheveled hair, lines on his forehead and strangely wet eyes. His warmth radiated off to her as he sat beside her. Neither of them had spoken one syllable yet.

After almost ten minutes of unbearable quiet, Teresa bit out, "Why are you here, Jane?"

It took a few moments for Patrick to consider the question.

"I didn't mean it."

Lisbon scrutinized him, demanding further clarification.

He cleared his throat and said, "I didn't mean to say goodbye. I can't ever say goodbye to you, Teresa."

He gently held her small hands in his rough ones, and looked right into her beautiful olive eyes and said, "You remember the time we staged your and Rigsby's shooting at the CBI? I said something right before I fired those shots."

He inched closer, squeezing her hands. "I never meant anything more than I meant that. I had always tried to conceal the strength of my feelings for you, Teresa. But time and again I failed. That night when Red John answered your cell I…" he gulped, Lisbon's bloody face floating in his mind. "Teresa, I love-"

Lisbon pulled away and stood up in a flash. She looked at Patrick with steely eyes. Patrick too scrambled on his feet, dreading the consequences of his worse judgment. After all, did he have the right to decide for Teresa whether or not they should be together, despite the deep rooted feelings they both harbored?

"Go away," Lisbon said coldly.

"Teresa-"

"Don't Jane! Just leave." she almost screamed, her voice thick.

Jane quietly crossed the room but at the last moment, at the door, he turned, tears threatening to pour, "Stay. God knows, I love you and I need you, Teresa. Please stay. I can't... can't let you go."

Lisbon had her back to him and responded, her voice barely audible, "It's too late. I don't believe you, Patrick. Not anymore."

He clearly saw that he couldn't stop her from leaving. This was farewell. A tear betrayed and sped down his cheek. "You deserve a much better man than me but I can't let you go away without hearing this. Teresa, I can't remember a moment with you where I wasn't in love with you. It was you. It will be you. Always."

She simply stood in the middle of the room, with her back turned to him.

Once Patrick closed the door behind him he broke into a run. Twenty minutes afterwards, with muscles and lungs searing he staggered to a stop. On the stone walls that made the gate to the Church he rested his head and panting, stared into the jet black sky, knowing there won't be another divine intervention ever again.

As soon as the main door clicked shut, signaling Patrick's exit, Teresa shook at the coldness seeping within her. She sank to the ground and for the first time since her mother's death, broke into heart-wrenching sobs.


	3. Our Songs Are Lost

A/N: Thank you so very much for all the reviews! I am glad you're enjoying this. I wish I could reply to the Guests' reviews as well. With this update I am intending to end the story but I want to give an epilogue. Please do say if you want one. I am sorry if this story takes a turn for the worse in terms of your expectations. Review are, as ever, adored and appreciated!

** Due to unavoidable rules I will not post musical lyrics in this update. However I meant to use the final paragraphs of the song 'Just Breathe' by Pearl Jam for this update. Link to the music if you wish to listen to it: watch?v=E5bAawsa7_s

 **Two days afterwards…**

"I tried calling… I tried calling you hundreds of times, begging you to talk to me, begging you to get help. Not a reply, not a word, not a text. You know what? I have not been sleeping. And… and you're a jerk."

To Patrick Jane her embittered words were a memory that seemed lifetimes away; all of his memories seemed lifetimes away; her resentful scolding, her exhausted smile after a day of work, her affectionate gaze, her wide honest eyes, her bravery; all of her incredibility.

He was sitting on a white chair, along with his colleagues. Ahead he could see one more row of people clad in black dresses. In front of them lay a sealed coffin and beside it Stan Lisbon stood. He was saying something, or crying; or maybe both. He found Van Pelt tearing her gaze away from him, her eyes puffed up.

He couldn't comprehend his surroundings- this wasn't his reality, was it?

So he just stood up and dashed out of the cemetery chapel. He let his instincts take over and decide his route.

From the outside, the one floored house with its yard looked the very same- familiar and welcoming. Her window plants sat as pretty as ever. He flicked out the key from one of them and entered her living room. All his strength drained out of him. Every inch of the house was filled of her essence and spoke starkly of her absence. Everything appeared so very cold, so foreign and hostile. Patrick closed his eyes, gathering all his bearings and approached her bedroom with painfully slow steps. The scenes of that night in this very room flashed before him and a strange chill took over his heart, rapidly spreading. He gasped, holding on to the door frame and after a few moments managed to scramble to her bed. As he buried his face in her pillow, he deeply inhaled, taking in her sweet lemon scent, allowing his wall of denial to break a little. He took out a shriveled piece of paper from his pocket.

Over the course of his life, Patrick had seen more number of corpses than he cared to remember. Consequently, he ended up going to the morgue countless number of times; a few of them due to strongly personal reasons but most of them with his partner in crime and justice, during their homicide investigations. Today, exactly like 15 years ago, as he walked along the dully lit corridor, with agent Fischer at his heels, an unimaginable dread overwhelmed his sensibilities. Fischer opened the door from behind him but Patrick stood frigidly, refusing to budge.

"No, it can't be her," he repeated for the umpteenth time, his voice devoid of emotions.

As the door fully opened, he saw his mates clustered around the single table in the dark, damp room. The only sound was of Grace's nerve-racking sobs that echoed off the walls. Wayne's tears ran unchecked as he stared at a figure completely covered in white cloth. Dennis was silently praying, his eyes closed and hands clasped heavenward. Kimball stood, facing away from everyone, trembling slightly. His bloodshot eyes swung to meet Patrick's unbelieving ones and one moment later Patrick was in his fierce embrace.

"It's her. It's Teresa," he whispered hoarsely.

Detaching himself from him, Jane shook his head and repeated, "No it can't be her."

Teresa Lisbon was the strongest woman he knew; hell, she was the strongest person he knew. She can't be just dead; because then she would be breaking her promise of always sticking up for him, and the Teresa he knew never broke promises. It wasn't her.

Patrick wheeled around and walked away, refusing the idea of Lisbon dying. Surely God didn't hate him so much?

Later that day, as Jane sat aimlessly on Teresa's doorstep, Wayne had walked up to him. Fully aware that Jane was beyond consolation, he thrust into his hand a crumpled bit of paper and said, avoiding looking his friend in the face, voice breaking, "For you."

The handwriting was Teresa's but written on an apparent hurry and panic, the words getting worse in shape as the letter progressed; implying the condition of the weather. There were drops of liquid splattered everywhere on the page.

"Dear Patrick,

I pray to God you never have to read this; that I can come home to you and kiss you and tell you all these stuff. But the weather is unpredictably bad and worsening by the minute. They have us strapped securely to our seats but in the off chance that something does happen, I want you to know that I didn't mean to leave you. Ever. I was stupid to let you walk out last night. I was stupid to get on this plane. I am going to make it up to you, I promise. I am going to take the first flight back once I land.

I don't exactly know from when but I was downright in the middle of all my feelings, when I realized I had irrevocably fallen for the one man who annoys the life out of me, tricks me and insults my intelligence. Maybe because he is also the man who can force a smile out of me and from time to time remind me that there is a life beyond our jobs.

I know you love me but if I can't make it, please don't sink into that hellish black abyss again. I am always here with you, in that beautiful heart of yours.

I love you, Patrick Jane, so much that it terrifies me. I will always love you.

No matter what.

-Teresa"

He dug the page into his chest, letting the truth crash into him and crush him into the pieces he once was. An excruciating pain took over and suffocated him. His vision blurred as he saw the other truth.

Teresa Lisbon's death killed the sane part of Patrick Jane; for Teresa herself had reincarnated that part.


End file.
